


Sweetheart

by pennydrabbles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drama, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Gen, Gender Neutral, One Shot, Other, Reader Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23605963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennydrabbles/pseuds/pennydrabbles
Summary: Prompt: Dean is hesitant to ask hunter!Reader out, but everyone else sees how obviously perfect they are together.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Kudos: 36





	Sweetheart

“I don’t play well with others,” you said, arms crossed, feet planted, staking your claim.

Dean snorted. “I can see that. Look, I’m not poaching your hunt here. Ellen sent me. Said you could use some backup.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, hesitating. If Ellen found out you went into a vamp nest solo, she’d chew your head off. And she _would_ find out eventually. She always did. 

Your arms dropped to your sides in resignation. 

“Fine,” you said. “Just stay out of my way.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, I’ll keep my distance. You’re a royal pain in the ass, you know that?”

You stepped toward him, an inch away from noses touching.

“ _Don’t_ call me _sweetheart_ ,” you seethed through your teeth.

Dean’s eyebrows ticked up a notch. “Got it…” His breath faltered as if he was about to add one last sarcastic jab but decided against it and held his tongue instead.

“Good. Let’s go.” You turned on your heel and marched into the vamp’s nest.

If you had looked over your shoulder, you would have seen Dean watching you. He shook his head, blew out a breath and scrubbed the back of his neck.

+++

“No, no, no,” you groaned.

You and Dean wiped out the vamp nest, but not before they left you with a parting gift. Your truck was totaled. Tires slashed, windows smashed in, engine hacked to pieces.

Dean rolled the Impala to a stop beside you and propped his arm on the window sill.

“Looks like you need a ride.”

“I can walk,” you countered, unwilling to allow him the satisfaction of driving you anywhere.

Dean spread his hands. “Come on, don’t be like that. I thought we made a good team in there.”

“It’s not you I’m dodging, Dean,” you replied, although that wasn’t entirely the truth. The way he looked at you was…different than most people you’d encountered on the road. Like he had a soft spot for you. 

You weren’t sure how to feel about that.

“Then what is it?” Dean said.

“Your taste in music. I’ve heard it’s less than stellar.”

“Ouch. Cut me off at the knees, why don’t you?”

“I believe I just did.”

Dean laughed. “You are brutal. Tell you what. I’ll play you for it.”

“Excuse me?”

Dean held out his fist atop his palm. “Rock, paper, scissors. Winner picks the music.”

You sighed. It was a free ride after all, and a hellish long walk back to your motel. So you relented. 

One, two, three.

Dean: scissors.

You: rock.

You grinned and fished a cassette tape from your pocket, holding it up. You closed your eyes and took an exaggerated deep breath.

“Don’t you just love the smell of victory in the morning?” you said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean grumbled, though you caught the flicker of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

You cranked up the music, rolled down your window, and reveled in your win. Dean grimaced the whole way back to the motel.

+++

“Dibs,” you said.

“No!” Dean protested, horrified. His hands were already on the pie tin, sliding it toward him. 

The Roadhouse had long since closed for the night. But Ellen welcomed you to stay after hours, along with Sam, Dean, and Cas. Beers were passed around, with two of your favorite pies. Only one piece was left now and you weren’t about to let Dean have it that easy without a fight.

Dean glanced down at the pie in dismay, knowing he had no chance since you’d called dibs.

“But,” he sputtered. “But you just…you can’t do that to a man.”

You grinned, hooked your fork in the pie tin and dragged it across the bar toward you. Slowly, you dug your fork into the pie, carving out a generously fat bite. You closed your mouth around the fork, sliding the pie off with a sinful moan.

“Oh, that’s **_so_** _**good**_.”

Cas, standing in front of the jukebox, raised his head slightly and spoke without turning around. 

“Dean, I believe that was a blatant sexual invitation.”

The room went dead silent. Sam’s face flushed red and he turned away, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Ellen coughed and gathered up the dirty dishes to cover her smile. 

Dean sputtered, the tips of his ears tattletale pink.

“What the hell, Cas?” he demanded.

Castial shrugged. “You’ve been uncertain whether your feelings were reciprocated. I thought you might like a second opinion.”

“But you don’t just _say_ things like that.”

“Why the hell not?” Ellen said. “It’s true. You two have been dancin’ around each other ever since I introduced you.”

Dean groaned and bowed his head.

“I always thought you looked really cute together,” Sam said, pleased as punch at Dean’s discomfort.

“Sammy,” Dean growled. “ _I will kill you.”_

You folded your arms on top of the bar, leaning closer to Dean, lips slightly parted.

“Well?”

Dean’s pupils blew wide. His gaze dropped to your mouth and he swallowed hard. Oh, he wanted you. He wanted you _so bad_ , you could practically taste it.

“Well what?” he croaked.

“Are you going to ask me out or not?” 

“You…want to?” he faltered. “I mean, I thought you’d eat me alive if I ever…you know, suggested it.”

You shrugged. “You never asked.”

Dean opened his mouth, closed it. “So…is that a yes?’

You scooped up a bite of pie with your fork and held it out to him.

“That’s definitely a yes,” you said.

A wry grin spread across Dean’s face as he took the bite. “I’m looking forward to it, sweetheart.”

This time, you didn’t correct him, too overwhelmed with the warm butterflies taking wing in your stomach when he called you that.


End file.
